


What a Billionaire Wants

by house_of_lantis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes - growing friendship to something more intimateSummary: Someone who can be easily bought isn’t worth having.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters are from my Marvel one-shot collection (now deleted) and saved into one story. 
> 
> Note: It is WIP but there is a plan to continue working on it.

[](https://imgur.com/JSHhXhi)

**Stark Tower**

Morning rituals started early with Steve getting up before sunrise to go for his run through Central Park. Steve had come home and showered and dressed by the time Bucky woke up to wander out of his bedroom, sleepily rubbing his eyes. Steve made their coffee, a bag of warm bagels from that bakery that they loved three blocks from the Tower on the kitchen counter.

Bucky loved warm, fresh baked breads. For something so simple, it was the one thing that made him feel like a normal person and Steve indulged Bucky his need for this morning ritual. He knew it was a remnant to the way-back past of being a soldier…and the more recent past of being the Asset where a regimented schedule kept him focused. His mornings with Steve kept him grounded; it brought back memories of sitting with his best friend in their tiny, cold-water walk up, sharing four-day old bread and lukewarm black coffee. Some days, he thought he could still taste the coffee grounds in his mouth, brushing his teeth and spitting them out into the sink afterwards.

“Morning, Steve. Morning, Jarvis,” Bucky muttered, sitting down at the small breakfast nook in the kitchen, looking at the pile of newspapers on the table.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. It’s Saturday, 3 October 2015. The weather is a pleasant 69 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Bucky grinned. “Thanks, buddy.”

Steve brought over two large mugs of coffee, setting one down in front of Bucky. He grabbed it with both hands, the metal fingers making a dull clink against the mug, his flesh hand cozy and warm on the other side. He drank down half by the time Steve collected plates, knives, and the bag of bagels.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, looking up at his best friend. Even after all this time, Bucky had to lift his eyes about 10-inches higher than where he’d normally look.  

Steve smiled at him, running his hand over Bucky’s long hair, stopping to squeeze his shoulder where the metal arm met flesh.

“You’re welcome, Buck.”

Bucky greedily pulled out his favorite bagels from the bag, the smell of warm breaded deliciousness – one plain, one onion – making Bucky’s mouth water. Steve smiled as he handed the cream cheese, watching as Bucky ate quickly, without grace or finesse. Bucky was certain that there was a time in his life in the way-back past when he actually had some manners. But warm bagel trumped pretentious table manners every time.

“Remember to chew and then swallow,” Steve said, snickering.

“Trust me, I know how to swallow,” Bucky mumbled, his mouth full.

They shared the piles of newspapers between them – Steve grabbing the front section from  _The Washington Post_ and handing Bucky  _The New York Times_. They read through the national and international news, making comments to each other on possible HYDRA sightings, then traded papers when they were done. They made their way steadily through the local papers and then to a variety of tabloids. Both of them shared a curiosity for the scandal rags; back in their day, they’d read  _The New York Daily Mirror_ , which was probably more entertainment than actual news.

“Sirs, Mr. Stark is on the elevator and will arrive in twelve seconds,” Jarvis told them.

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Steve said, as Bucky ate through both bagels, reaching into the bag for a third one, still busily chewing the piece in his mouth.

He was busy putting more cream cheese on an everything bagel when Tony stepped off the elevator and walked onto their floor.

“Come on, Barnes, let’s go.”

Bucky looked up from his plate. The older man was looking slightly manic with dark eyes bright with amusement, mussed up hair, and oddly enough, wearing a blue blazer over his usual black tee-shirt and jeans.

He managed to chew and swallow, taking a long drink of his coffee. “Where we going? Kind of early to be going out partying.”

Tony grinned, eyes widening with mischief. “You need a better selection of clothes if you’re going to be seen with me out in public.”

Steve frowned, looking up from his newspaper. “What’s this about, Tony?”

“Never you mind, grandpa, just some harmless fun,” he said, smoothly. “Just taking the Buckster out for a fitting.”

“What’s wrong with his clothes?”

Bucky made a curious noise around his mouthful, waving his right hand at Tony to continue.

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing. But they’re not always appropriate to where I’m going to be taking him in a few days.”

“Where you taking him?”

Tony laughed, patting Steve’s shoulder. “I didn’t know I had to ask your permission to take Barnes out.”

Steve leaned back in his chair and gave Tony a stern look. “I’m just watching out for him.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Tony said, grinning widely. Bucky saw that the smile didn’t reach Tony’s eyes, though, as he looked at Steve. “I promise to bring him home by midnight and I won’t even get fresh.” He winked at Bucky. “At least, not on the first date, Bucky’s a good boy.”

Bucky couldn’t hide his grin fast enough and he ducked his chin down, finishing off the third bagel and looking at the bag with longing for another. He sighed, maybe he could get something from one of the many food trucks throughout the city. He took his time to fold the newspaper he was reading neatly and slid it across the table to Steve.

“It’s all right, Stevie, it sounds like fun. I could use a nice civilian suit anyway.”

***

**Upper West Side**

“I thought we were going shopping,” Bucky said, his instincts coming online fully as he followed Tony down an alley.

“We are going shopping,” Tony said, grinning over his shoulder. “There are some places that are hidden gems in this city, places that only a certain type of person knows.”

“Looks like we’re heading to some kind of illegal sweatshop or something,” he murmured, trusting that Tony knew what he was doing. “You know, I’m not sure how I feel about getting clothes from slave labor.”

Tony nodded. “And I don’t disagree, but this is not a sweatshop, and for the prices that I’m going to be paying, it’s not slave labor either. We’re here.”

They stopped at a heavy mahogany door and Tony pressed a button, set discreetly next to a small gold plaque with the word “Simon’s” printed in script. A few moments later, the door open silently and a distinguished looking gentleman greeted Tony warmly.

“Mr. Stark, it’s been too long,” the man said, shaking Tony’s hand and stepping to the side to let him inside the building.

“Good to see you, Charleston. This is my friend, Bucky Barnes. We’re here for him today.”

“Very good, sir,” Charleston said, shaking Bucky’s hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Bucky followed them into the building, amazed at how different things looked once they stepped inside. It was like he walked into some British tailor shop – he remembered what they were like from being in London in the 1940s – very posh and for wealthy gentlemen clientele. Howard Stark had taken him and Steve to get suits made, tailored to fit. It was the first time Bucky had ever owned something that was made just for him. 

“It’s like time traveling to the past, huh?” Bucky murmured, looking over at Tony.

Tony was watching him with dark eyes, moving over his face with the kind of focus that he only paid to his projects during precision work. Bucky tucked his lips into his mouth and gave a shy smile, looking at the polished wooden floors.

“Dad…he had a picture of you and Steve with him, dressed to the nines, sometime during the war,” Tony said, smiling fondly at him. “You always looked so pleased with yourself.”

Bucky barked out a deep laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I probably was. Steve said that I always liked looking nice; he probably meant that I was a vain song-of-a-bitch but didn’t want to say it like that. There were some old pictures of us, of me, at the museum. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember that Howard got a kick out of taking me and Steve out, a couple of Brooklyn rubes out in big London town.”

“Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me,” Charleston said, holding back a rich forest green curtain separating the front lobby to the other room.

Bucky felt Tony’s hand on his back, guiding him gently through the curtains to what looked like the showroom, decorated with wood so smooth and polished it reflected the lights like glass. There room smelled of sandalwood and cigar smoke, a thick red carpet on the floor, a few displays dressed with perfectly ironed dress shirts, neck ties, and vests. Bucky ran his right hand along the rich fabrics, feeling the cool cottons and soft tweeds and wools under his fingertips.

“Could I offer you something to drink?”

Bucky shook his head politely, too caught up touching the fabrics of the different suits in the room.

Tony chuckled. “Are we talking coffee or something smoother?”

“Mr. Stark will have a splash of his favorite scotch, Charleston. You can find the bottle in the cabinet, reserved for him.”

Bucky turned to see the short, older man, walking into the room. He stood a few inches shorter than Tony and Bucky smiled, watching as the older man hugged Tony heartily, patting his back.

“Simon, it’s good to see you again,” Tony said, looking at the man with a small, private smile. He turned towards Bucky, waving his hand for Bucky to approach. “This is Bucky, formerly Sergeant Barnes, and he is in need of a good suit.”

Bucky pulled his lips into a polite smile and shook the older man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Simon chuckled, shaking his hand firmly. “The pleasure is mine; please, call me Simon. So, let’s take a look at you, son.”

He stepped back and took his time looking at Bucky from the top of his head, the width of his shoulders, and down to his feet. Charleston handed Tony a crystal glass with a small amount of amber liquid, then walked towards them, holding a notepad in his hand, a measuring tape around his neck. Bucky held still, allowing their observation, the soft whir of the motors in his left arm turning over in the quiet of the room.

Neither Simon nor Charleston commented on the sound.

“Shall we take some measurements?” Simon said, smiling kindly as he took Bucky’s right hand and leading him towards a well-lit area in front of three large mirrors. “Please remove your clothes, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You can call me Bucky.”

Simon chuckled. “Hardly, sir, that is not a gentleman’s proper name.”

“James,” Bucky said, softly. “My first name is James.”

“Of course, James,” Simon said, stepping back and consulting with Charleston quietly, giving Bucky room to undress.

Bucky saw Tony sitting down in a green plaid armchair, sipping his drink. He raised his eyebrows at Bucky through the mirror and Bucky pulled off his dark gray hoodie. Charleston plucked it from Bucky’s hand when he started looking for a place to put his clothes. Even he knew that it wouldn’t be proper to just toss his clothes on the floor.

He took off his black boots and stripped out of his burgundy Henley and jeans, standing in just his skin and his metal arm in front of the mirrors. He stared at his body with nothing more than a clinical eye – his skin was intact, due to the serum and cryogenic freezing he still looked like a man in his late 20s, his musculature was in working condition, his opened and closed his left hand and watched the metal plates shifting up his arm. The only part of his body that drew Bucky’s gaze was the scaring around the area where his metal arm met the flesh of his shoulder. He was fully operational though; the time out of the “freezer,” as Tony called it, having done nothing to impair Bucky’s ability to use his body and skillset to serve.

Of course, he didn’t do that anymore.

“Damn, Barnes, you really don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, do you?” Tony said, letting out a low whistle.

“Why would I be embarrassed?” He said, looking at Tony over his shoulder. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, of course not, son,” Simon said, quickly. “Charleston, would you fetch James a pair of boxers, please?”

“Yes, sir,” Charleston murmured, walking to a section in the corner of the room and bringing back a pair of boxers, handing it to Bucky.

The fabric was soft, white with light blue stripes. Bucky bent over – “ _Jesus fucking Christ_ ,” Tony muttered behind him – and stepped into the boxers, pulling them up as he stood up.

“Wonderful, let’s get started,” Simon said, chuckling softly. “Charleston, may I have the measuring tape?”

*****  

**The Velvet Room**

"She was a real doll, why didn't you take her up on her offer?" Bucky looked over the heads of people near the VIP area, dancing, showing off for Tony Stark. “You could have anyone here, just snap your fingers.”

Tony laughed, slouching down on the plush velvet booth, one foot propped up against the edge of the glass coffee table. "She was more interested in my money – or at least getting a picture with me to put it out on her social media. She’ll probably get a few thousand new followers now." 

"You just being cynical or…” 

Tony gave Bucky a knowing look. "I can always tell when someone wants me for other reasons than being with me." 

"What's the harm in...it's like a trade. You get her affections--" 

“ _Buy_   her affections,” he said, wisely. “Someone who can be easily bought isn’t worth having.”

Bucky frowned. "What about me? You...you buy me things, take me places, give me stuff...is it the same?" 

"Are you out with me because of the clothes and the $200 haircut and the all access pass to every VIP room in the world?" 

"No." 

"Then why are you out with me?" 

Bucky grinned and gave a little shrug. "Because you asked." 

"Because you never expect it of me." 

"Are you...expecting me to be grateful in some other way?" 

Tony's dark eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement. He inhaled deeply and turned towards Bucky, leaning in close. "What are you offering, honey? Don't you know that I'm the master of negotiation?" 

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're a punk, Stark." 

Tony laughed, throwing back his head. “You know, I really like you, Barnes.”

He barked out a soft, surprised laugh. “Why?”

Tony smiled at him, sipping his drink and turning to look out at the people on the dance floor.

“No, I mean, why? I can’t give you nothing you don’t already have or can get on your own. I’m not that good of company, no matter what Steve says,” Bucky said, chuckling lowly. “Half the world governments want to see me put behind bars; the other half just wants me to disappear. All I have now is my name, a handful of memories that wake me up screaming the house down, and…”

“Natasha once told me that Steve said, back when he had nothing, he always had you,” Tony said, turning to look at him, dark eyes focused on Bucky’s face. “Rich man, poor man – that kind of friendship and loyalty, that’s worth more than any amount of money I have, and I have a lot and I can always make more.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “I’ve not met anyone who’s as loyal as Steve.”

Tony laughed, trailing off to a long sigh. “I was talking about you, Barnes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel**

**The Empire Room**

 

Bucky hadn’t planned to attend. When he received the official invitation, embossed on thick cream paper with red foiled edges, he had called the RSVP telephone number to the event planner’s office and politely declined.

_“You don’t have to go,” Steve told him, a small smile on his lips. Bucky could tell that Steve was a little disappointed, but he could also read the relief in the lines of Steve’s shoulders. “It’s just that…we all thought it would nice for you to get out for a little bit. Maybe dance with some of the ladies, like in the old days.”_

_Bucky knew that in the old days, he was a bit of a flirt and a charmer, always up for a dance with a pretty dame._

_“Seems like those days are behind me, Steve,” he said, kindly. He couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes, knowing that he’d just see nothing but sadness there._

_It was starting to kind of tick him off that every time he looked at Steve, the punk looked like he just wanted to curl up around Bucky and cry._

_Despite Bucky’s slow and ongoing recovery, he wasn’t an Avenger and he didn’t want to work for SHIELD. He didn’t want to go back in the field of war. He didn’t know how Tony and Steve did it, but they breezed past government red tape and had all of his military back pay, hazard pay, POW-status allotments, plus interest, returned to Bucky._

_Tony gleefully presented Bucky with the check. “Four million, US, the government probably owes you a hell of a lot more, but hey, it’s tax free. Don’t spend it all in one place, Barnes.”_

_Bucky stared at the check, then up at Tony’s wide smile, and Steve’s smaller, sadder one, and then back down at the check again._

_“I guess I’m going to have to open up a bank account or something?”_

_Tony laughed and patted Bucky’s back. “I have a legion of financial experts; my favorite is Petunia – and yes, that’s her real name – and she’s the sharpest of the bunch. I’ll introduce you to her and she can take you on as a client.”_

_“She helped me with my back pay, too.” Steve grinned, a little shyly. “She’s real smart, Buck; she’ll teach you about banking and investing for the future. I’ll go with you, if you want.”_

_Once Petunia Harding got over being star struck by him, she proved herself to be extremely knowledgeable about money, and true to Steve’s word, taught Bucky a lot about banking. He watched Steve blush and act pretty gun shy and Bucky wondered if Steve had gotten a little crush on her._

_“She’s a mathematical genius,” Steve told him after they left Petunia’s office. “One time, I saw her rattle off some kind of complex math thing to a guy in the office who was trying to take my account from her. I didn’t understand a single thing she said, but whatever it was, the guy walked away looking like she’d shamed him in front of his mother and grandmother.” Steve laughed a little, shaking his head. “It was great!”_

_Bucky smiled; Steve always did have a type._

_Later, during lunch in the Stark Industries cafeteria, Steve broached the subject of what Bucky wanted to do._

_“Not fight, not kill, not hurt people,” he said, shrugging._

_“That leaves a whole lot open, Buck.”_

_Bucky took a deep breath. “I don’t have to choose anything right now, do I?”_

_“Of course not,” Steve said, shaking his head and reaching across the table to squeeze Bucky’s right arm. “You have all the time in the world to choose. I just don’t want you to feel left out or anything.”_

_“I don’t like it when you and the others have to go protect us from those assholes out there, but I can’t be out there with you anymore. I hate having to sit back and wait for all of you to come back in one piece but…it beats the alternative.”_

_Steve cocked his head and frowned. “What’s that?”_

_“The Asset coming back online,” Bucky told him, tapping the side of his head. “Not worth the risk.”_

_“Okay, Bucky, I trust you,” Steve said, smiling at him. He took a bite of his apple pie. “Did you get your invite to Stark’s party for next week?”_

_Bucky shrugged it off. “Hmmm…yeah.”_

_The other Avengers tried to convince Bucky to attend the event._

_“It’ll be fun! There’s going to be a ton of food!” Clint said, hanging out of the vent in Bucky’s bedroom. “If it gets boring, we’ll go exploring through their access passages. I heard that the Waldorf used to have these secret tunnels going all over the city so the rich folks didn’t have to use the streets with the rest of us.”_

_“Step into the light, James, let it warm you for an evening.” Black Widow told him, handing him a beautifully red apple._

_“We would find your presence at this party to be truly welcome! I have often enjoyed many a Migardian repast, especially hosted by our Man of Iron. There is much merriment to be had!” Thor said, enthusiastically._

_“I’m not much for parties either, Bucky,” Bruce said, shrugging awkwardly. “But, yeah, I kind of have to go. Otherwise, I’d rather just hang out here with you all night.”_

_“No pressure. But I had Simon make a few tuxedos for you. You know, just in case. But no pressure!” Tony said in his usual rapid-fire way, rushing across the living room to the elevators. “They’re getting delivered this afternoon! No pressure!”_

_Bucky stood in his living room with the four tuxedos delivered and spread out on the couch. He had spent a long time just admiring the workmanship of the jacket, the perfect cut of the fabric and the seams, the alignment of the buttons, the meticulous hand-stitching. They were works of art; nothing Bucky had ever owned in his life, past or present, was so beautifully made._

_And for him, just for him. These clothes wouldn’t fit another man’s body. The left shoulder and the left sleeve were just slightly wider to accommodate his metal arm. On another man, it would feel too loose, the fit would be off, but on Bucky, the jacket fit like a glove made just for him._

_“Sergeant Barnes, Miss Potts is on her way to you and requests if she could have a moment,” JARVIS said, softly._

_“Yes, that’s fine,” he said, looking at the tuxedos. Should he put them back into the garment bags? What would she think, seeing him staring at clothes, for God’s sake?_

_Too late, the elevator doors opened and Pepper Potts strolled into his living room, a warm smile on her lips._

_“James, I’m so glad – oh good, Simon had the tuxedos delivered,” she said, walking around the couch to stand beside him, gazing at the four suits._

_“Mr. Simon is a genius,” he said, shrugging._

_“Tony appreciates genius in other people,” Pepper said, smiling. She placed a slender hand on his left arm. “Go with the licorice black.”_

_“I’m not going to the event.”_

_She peered up at him, blue eyes meeting his. “It would mean a lot to Tony if you did. And to the others, too, of course.”_

_Bucky bit his bottom lip. “You sure? I mean…Tony really won’t mind having me there at his event?”_

_Pepper motioned her hand towards the four black tuxedos. “I realize that this is excessive, but it’s Tony, and traditionally, this is his way of ensuring that you don’t want to say no.”_

_“I doubt there are many people out there who’ve said no to Tony Stark.”_

_“Not a lot of people say no to Tony Stark,” she said, her face perfectly neutral. Bucky thought she was trying to tell him something without actually coming right out to say it, but he couldn’t figure out what it was exactly._

_“All right then, I’ll go,” he said, taking a deep breath. He stared at the four black tuxedos and frowned. “Which one’s the licorice black?”_

The Empire Room of the Waldorf-Astoria was usually done up in blue and gold, but for Tony Stark, they had changed out all the blue to red instead. There were about fifty circular tables situated around the room, a high-ceiling room – Bucky estimated it was 21-feet high – with dozens of expensive looking chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. There was a line of windows with arches lining one long wall with gold curtains neatly tied back and the lights of Park Avenue reflecting in the glass.

Bucky kept to the edges of the room, carefully keeping his back near the wall, eyes looking at the multiple entry and exit points. He calculated the distance to all of the Avengers around the room, how long it would take for Bucky to reach one of them in case something happened.

There were about 400 people attending the event – Tony called it a “small affair” – and the music was nice, the little finger food was tasty, the drinks flowed like water, and everyone was wearing their best. It kind of reminded Bucky of being back in the dance halls, but classier.

He watched as Tony worked the room, shaking hands with the men and leaning in to give a kiss on the cheek to the ladies. He smiled and laughed, moved his hands as he talked, and his audience was clearly enraptured by him. Bucky cocked his head and wondered how all these people would treat Tony if he weren’t a famous billionaire genius, if they’d all still cater to him if he was just a normal, smart guy.

_Tony laughed, hard and long. “Absolutely not. They all want me for my money; want me for what they think they can get from me.”_

_“How come you live like this if that’s all true?” Bucky said, making a face. “Never knowing who your real friends are.”_

_“I know who my real friends are,” he said, quietly. “Rhodey and Pepper.”_

_“What about Steve and the others? What about me?”_

_Tony smiled, but the smile didn’t reach Tony’s eyes. “You and Steve remind me a lot of me and Rhodey.”_

_“You don’t think I’m one of your friends, too?” He met Tony’s gaze when Tony didn’t say anything for the longest time. “I’m going to start feeling kind of insulted if you don’t answer.”_

Bucky sipped his champagne as he watched Tony talking with a small group of people across the room. He was surprised when Tony looked his way, giving Bucky a little head nod, and eventually freed himself from his group of admirers to make his way towards Bucky.

“Buckster, how’re you doing? Enjoying the party? Did you eat some of those little cream shrimp things, I can wave down a waiter and have him bring you some—“

“I ate some of everything,” he admitted, smiling a little. “They were good.”

Tony nodded, standing beside him to look out into the room. “Nice crowd, huh? The Stark Foundation probably raised a good $10 million tonight.”

“That’s great, Tony.”

“Good, good,” he said, nodding. He looked at Bucky, brown eyes looking him up and down. “You went with the licorice black. Good choice.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “How can you tell the difference? They all look black to me. Even Pepper knew which one was licorice black.”

“Tricks of the trade,” Tony said, amusement in his words. “You look good, Barnes. Clean up really nice.”

“Thanks for the clothes,” he said, softly. “And the invite to your party.”

Tony waved his hand in the air, waving away Bucky’s thanks. Bucky really hated it when Tony did that; like his consideration for Bucky didn’t cost anything. Maybe it didn’t cost Tony much, but it felt like something to Bucky.

“What are friends for?” Tony said, chuckling at him.

Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. “Friends are for a lot more than just buying them expensive stuff.”

Tony turned and looked up at him. “Pepper said that my obligations to the Foundation are done. My time is my own again. Want to get out of here?”

He frowned, looking around at all the people in the room. “You just want to ditch?”

“Sure, why not? The Foundation got a lot of new donations; Pepper’s happy with me. My job as Tony Stark is done,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I feel like getting some ice cream. You in?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Tony had his phone in his hand, texting quickly. “Happy’ll meet us out front. Come on, Buckster, I know the best ice cream place; it’ll knock your socks off.”

Bucky smiled, setting his champagne glass on a nearby table. He smoothed his hand down the front of his jacket and nodded at Tony. “All right, I’m in.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I may be ignoring CACW for this timeline. I think this story fits in after CAWS where Bucky is in the Smithsonian. Let’s say that Steve and Sam have brought Bucky in from the cold and they live in Avengers Tower.
> 
> Author’s Note: The New York PM Daily was a real newspaper that ran from 1940-1948 and was known for being progressive and for its stunning photographs. Read more about it here: http://hyperallergic.com/272812/the-short-lived-1940s-nyc-tabloid-that-dared-to-tell-the-truth/

Despite the gaps in his memory, Bucky was pleased to remember some moments of his past. There were a lot of things that Bucky remembered about his time as the Asset, but he didn’t quite have the headspace to actually fully process. That was going to be a long, hard road, but if Bucky wanted to continue living at the Tower and try to find his way, then he was damn sure to try.

It was Sam who found him a counselor at the VA Center. Even though Doctor Brannigan wasn’t a specialist in the kind of PTSD that Bucky suffered, the Doc was experienced working with extremely traumatized veterans, those who were held as POWs. He went to his sessions every week for two brutal hours where Bucky would try to come to terms with one memory at a time.

It wasn’t always so horrifying, though. Through his sessions with the Doc, Bucky was allowing himself to recall the happy moments of his past.

Most of his happier memories included Steve, but not the Steve who was Captain America and who stood a few inches taller than him now. They were of a Steve who was short and who got into back alley fist fights with punks who outweighed him by a hundred pounds.

As much as he loved having those memories, the ones that Bucky loved best were the ones of himself. He loved science and technological wonders. He loved learning how things fit together. He was quick to pick up on how machines worked.  _“_

_You taught me how to steal trucks without using a key,” Steve told him, smiling fondly. “Natasha says that it’s called ‘hotwiring’ now.”_

_“It was in Germany, right?”_

And he loved all the new tech that he encountered every day. Tony gifted him with a special Stark tablet and JARVIS downloaded science ebooks and technology news articles and, his guilty pleasure, tabloid entertainment.

_“I can’t believe how much I missed,” Bucky said, swiping content on the screen of his tablet. TMZ.com reminded him of the gossip papers from back in his day. “I mean, I didn’t sleep through all of it like you did, but I wasn’t always aware of what was going on in the world.”_

_It wasn’t like any of his handlers let him stop off at a café after an assassination. If he had missed his return window, there was powerful incentive for Bucky to not make that mistake again._

_“HYDRA didn’t care if you were up to speed with the latest entertainment gossip, huh?” Steve said, grinning._

_“Hey, what was the name of that paper that you worked at?”_

_Steve chuckled. “The New York PM Daily.” He cleared his throat. “’PM is against people who push other people around. PM accepts no advertising. PM belongs to no political party. PM is absolutely free and uncensored. PM’s sole source of income is its readers—to whom it alone is responsible. PM is the one newspaper that can and dares to tell the truth.’”_

_“Yeah, you were sweet on that one photographer, what was her name again?”_

_“Mary Morris,” Steve said, softly. “She passed in 2009. Age 95. Everyone said that she was still a spitfire.”_

_Bucky scrolled through the TMZ pages, showing the screen to Steve. “I don’t even know who any of these people are. Hey, this Angelina is a real doll, though.”_

_“I read somewhere that Tony gave her the business,” Steve said, confidentially. “And there’s a rumor that he gave it to her husband, Brad, too.”_

_“At the same time!” Clint called from across the room. “It’s called a threesome.”_

_“Ménage-a-trois ain’t a modern term, Barton,” Bucky said, laughing. He turned to smile at Steve. “Remember that time the Commandos snuck us into that French brothel?”_

_He watched as Steve blushed rosy and smirked, looking back at his screen._

_“Look at this mook, Steve. I bet you five bucks that all the people who thought this Tom Cruise character was a real head case, probably think he’s not so nuts anymore, what with the alien invasion and all.”_

_From the kitchen, Clint choked on his muffin. “Oh shit! The Scientologists are probably creaming their collective pants!”_

_Bucky smiled, shaking his head. “I love technology, Steve.”_

_“I know, Buck.”_

It was that same love for science and technology that made Bucky a damn good sniper. He could field strip, assemble, and use any weapon; and he could do complex calculations on the fly in his head. When HYDRA discovered his hidden skills, they exploited his love for science and twisted it into something inhumane.

“Coffee, JARVIS, coffee me right now,” Tony said, rushing into the living room and heading straight for the kitchen. “Outta the way, Barton, I’m taking the coffee with me!”

“Tony has a lot of interesting technology,” Bucky remarked, watching Tony going for the coffee maker. He paused for only a moment as it finished brewing, and took the whole pot of coffee with him. He wore one of his Ironman gauntlets on his left hand, a screwdriver gripped between his teeth, as he mumbled something that seemed like equations under his breath. “He reminds me of Howard.”

“Yeah, don’t let him hear you say that,” Clint told him, sitting down on the couch and flipping through the channels on the large flat screen television.

Bucky cocked his head. “Why not? He’s Howard’s son, right. His workshop looks a lot like Howard’s old workshop back in the SSR. You remember, don’tcha Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat and made a face. “From what I’ve gathered, Tony didn’t have a good relationship with Howard.”

“There’s a lot of daddy issues,” Clint intoned, looking at Bucky.

Bucky didn’t know what “daddy issues” meant, but he could parse it out in context.  

“That’s too bad,” he said, softly, looking down the hallway to where Tony disappeared, heading back down to his workshop with his pot of coffee.

***

The amount of food that was available was still a bit of a shock. It wasn’t so much his old timer sensibilities or of the Great Depression and food shortages and rationing during the war. He didn’t really eat a lot of food while as the Asset. The technicians pumped him up with all kinds of vitamins and supplements, and fed him some tasteless and flavorless gelatinous concoction that left Bucky feeling full but not satisfied. He was never hungry when he was awake; the technicians always ensured that his body was at peak performance before sending him out on his missions.  

Every once in a while, if he performed exceptionally well in the field, he’d be rewarded with physical food. But Bucky had a hard time keeping it down; and in the end, eating food felt more like a punishment than a reward.

Now, Bucky liked fresh fruits; his favorites were plums and he was always pleased to know that he could get sweet plums, even when they weren’t in season. He was pretty sure that Tony put the order in for him. He always found the kitchen, in the apartment that he shared with Steve, well-stocked with his favorites.

He was also addicted to Mac & Cheese. He couldn’t get enough and ate it almost every day at least once a day.

_“Let me take you to a real Italian restaurant,” Tony begged, shaking his head at Bucky’s bowl of Mac & Cheese. “My taste buds are rebelling at the thought that you think this overly processed cheap food is good food.”_

_“Why? I like it. This is good enough for me,” he said, licking his spoon of the melted cheese. He swiped his thumb through the remnants on the bowl and stuck it into his mouth, beaming at Tony._

_“That’s not even real Mac & Cheese,” Tony complained, watching him as he cleaned his bowl. If he wouldn’t have thought that Tony would find it disturbing, Bucky would’ve licked the bowl clean with his tongue._

_He finally relented and Tony took the whole team out to dinner at what was touted to be the best Italian restaurant in the city. It had something called Michelin Stars and the chef came out to greet Tony personally. Bucky stared at the bowl of fancy Mac & Cheese and took a small bite. They were all watching him._

_“Is it good, Buck?” Steve asked, smiling knowingly at him._

_“Mmmmhmm…”_

_He chewed slowly; and when no one was looking, he spit the weird pasta and cheese glob into his napkin._

A few days later, Bucky went to check on his Mac & Cheese supply in the pantry and was pleased to find several dozen blue boxes on the shelves.

“Hey, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes, what can I do for you?”

“Did Tony stock my pantry with all this Mac & Cheese?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes. Sir felt that you should always have a supply of your favorite foods.”

“Okay. Thanks, buddy.”

Later, he made a double batch and divided out the Mac & Cheese into two bowls, grabbed two bottles of beer, and made his way to Tony’s workshop with his offerings. JARVIS let him inside and Bucky watched as Tony stood in front of his desk, four hologram screens filled with all kinds of data and figures and numbers. That rock music with the screeching guitar riff was blasting from the speakers, making Bucky’s ears ache, but he stood in the workshop, unable to take his eyes off of Tony.

The music ended abruptly and Tony turned, giving Bucky a wink. “You like what you see?”

Bucky smiled, looking up at the screens with nothing but delight and awe. “You remind me of the first time I saw Howard at the EXPO. He had all these beautiful dames on stage with him and he was dressed in a tuxedo like he was going to some fancy party, and he showed off a car that could fly.” He walked closer to Tony, setting the bowls and bottles on a corner of Tony’s desk, staring up at the screen. “I used to think,  _that Stark, he’s a real genius. There’s never going to be another fella like him in my lifetime_.” He grinned and then looked at Tony. “But you’re the real genius. There’s never going to be another fella like you in your lifetime.”

Tony blinked and stared at him for a long moment; and Bucky remembered that he didn’t like being compared to Howard.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“No, it’s fine,” Tony said, turning back to the hologram screens. He huffed out a short laugh. “Guess my old man made an impression on you.”

“Back in my time, I’d never seen anything like what Howard was showing. Part of me is still wondering why no one ever made a flying car like he promised.”

“There is a flying car,” Tony said, quietly.

“Yeah?” Bucky said, smiling at him. “Do you have Howard’s old car?”

“It’s probably somewhere in a junkyard by now,” he said, shrugging. “I’m talking about Lola.”

“Lola?”

 “Come on, I’ll show you,” Tony said, waving his hands at the screens. “JARVIS, save everything to my personal server, will you?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Tony led him to the back part of his workshop where a number of beautiful, old fashioned looking cars were parked. There was one that had a gray tarp covering it and Tony picked up on end, pulling it off.

“Oh man, who could shoot up a beautiful car like this?” Bucky said, frowning at the dozens of bullet holes in the bright red body. He whistled lowly and ran his hand over the curves of the car.

“She’s a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette,” Tony said, following him around the vehicle. “She belongs to Agent Agent.”

Bucky looked at Tony, puzzled. “Agent Agent?”

“Coulson,” he said, the corner of his lips lifting with a smile. “She used to belong to Agent’s old man, Robert Coulson. He was a mechanical engineer. They restored her together.”

“And she can fly?”

“Not yet. She hovers really well, though. But after I’m finished fixing her, she’ll be able to do a lot more than just fly.” Tony said, proudly. “Agent comes over on weekends when he’s free and he’ll spend a couple of days at the Tower, fixing her up. I’ve been making some new modifications for her.”

Bucky placed his fingertips into the myriad of bullet holes. “Did Howard help Coulson’s father with the hover technology?”

Tony cracked a wide smile. “Actually, I met Agent when I was at MIT. He was just recruited into SHIELD and, well, I had just taken over Stark Industries. He wanted to make sure that SI was going to keep producing weapons for the military. That’s when I found out about Lola. He was talking about doing some upgrades for her and…I guess he wanted to distract me from what happened to my parents. I found Howard’s notes on his original hover technology and upgraded her for him. I’ve been giving Lola upgrades over the years ever since.”

Bucky bit his lip when Tony glossed over the deaths of Howard and Maria. It was pretty clear that Tony knew that the Starks death was at HYDRA’s command…and at Bucky’s hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “I didn’t—“

“Well, that’s enough strolling down memory lane for today, or, you know, forever, don’t you think, Barnes?” He said, cutting Bucky off sharply.

Bucky frowned, glancing at Tony, but the other man didn’t seem angry or upset. He didn’t seem to hold any kind of emotion on his face that Bucky could decipher. He sighed and ran a hand over his hair.

“I brought some food down for you. I didn’t think you had anything for lunch.”

Tony gave a half grin, looking at the two bowls at his desk. “Did you really bring me some of your Mac & Cheese?”

“It tastes even better when it’s kind of cooled down,” he offered, giving Tony a tentative smile.

“All right,” he said, walking back to his desk, waving for Bucky to follow him. “Eat and then I’ll show you what’s under her hood.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“You know, Agent is probably going to be here in a few days. Maybe if you asked nicely, he’ll let you help put Lola back together again.”

Bucky smiled, surprised but pleased by the invitation. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

***

Bucky was sitting in his bedroom, the tablet on his lap, brooding. He’d spent the whole morning reading every article he could find on Google on Howard and Maria Starks death. The news articles linked to pictures of a very young Tony Stark looking pale and bruised at the funeral; and plenty of stories of Tony’s reckless years of hard drinking and even harder partying. There were plenty of pictures of Tony going into or leaving clubs, always surrounded by a bevy of pretty dames, getting into car accidents and fights with photographers. Bucky frowned, tracing his fingers over the image of Tony trying to look emotionless as a swarm of reporters and photographers surrounded him, leaving the cemetery.

“Sergeant Barnes, your presence is requested in Sir’s workshop at your earliest convenience.”

Bucky shut down his tablet and set it on his bed. “Did he say what he needed me for?”

“Agent Coulson is in residence. Sir would like for you to meet them.”

He got off the bed. “That’s great, I’ll be right there. Thanks, JARVIS.”

“It’s my pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky made his way down to Tony’s workshop and as soon as he approached, the doors slid open and Bucky frowned deeper, watching Tony arguing with a man wearing a neatly pressed black suit.

“—the hell do you mean you don’t want weapons upgrades? Didn’t you love the flamethrower that I added last time?”

“I’m not taking Lola out into the field again. She’s retiring and she’s going to enjoy a long and safe civilian life.”

Tony made a face, waving his hand towards the red car. “She’s the best field agent you have!”

“The only thing you need to do is improve her hover technology—“

“There is nothing wrong with her hover technology! You’re the one who dropped her into midair from the damned Bus! Who does that? She wasn’t built to hover at 15,000 feet! What I should do is add a damn parachute!” Tony narrowed his eyes and stared up at the other man. “Something you and your favorite hero in spandex have in common. I hear that Cap likes to drop out of planes without a parachute, too!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. He had heard plenty of stories of how Steve liked jumping out of planes. That punk was going to give Bucky gray hairs.

The older man put his hands on his hips and leaned towards Tony. Bucky’s instincts to protect Tony flared up, but he backed down when he realized that the other man wasn’t hostile.

“Stark, I’ve had Lola for nearly my whole life. I will not endanger her again.”

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You can’t expect me to believe that you’ll be content to leave her on blocks or lock her in some garage somewhere, Phil.”

Phil’s lips twitched and he grinned, staring at Tony. “I was hoping to let her stay here with you.”

“With me?” He said, blinking rapidly.

“I’m not giving her to you, Stark, don’t get any funny ideas. I’m just saying that if she’s safe anywhere in this world, she’s safest here in your Tower.”

“Oh,” Tony said, smiling widely. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Of course she can stay here! She’ll be perfectly fine with the Shelby and the roadster. Perfect company, in fact.”

“And perhaps Sergeant Barnes will be good enough to lend a hand here and there,” Phil said, turning to look at Bucky. He smiled warmly, holding out his hand and walking towards Bucky. “I’m Phil Coulson. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky shook Phil’s hand. “Bucky. My friends call me Bucky.”

“Phil,” he said, in kind, eyes dancing with pleasure.

“Maybe he’ll sign your vintage trading cards if you asked him nicely,” Tony teased, chuckling.

“Oh. Um, sure?”

Phil grinned and met Bucky’s gaze. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind giving an autograph, I do have a new set in my suitcase. My last set was unsalvageable.”

“Okay, sure.”

Tony leaned his elbows on Lola’s hood, hip cocked out like an old fashioned centerfold model. “So, gents, let’s fix up the old girl.”

“Get your elbows off of Lola, Stark,” Phil said, giving him a hard look.

***

Bucky has never had so much fun than the last couple of days with Tony and Phil. Bucky’s sole task was to find and remove every bullet lodged in Lola. JARVIS helpfully supplied hologram diagrams of Lola’s framework, the trajectory of the bullet from the bullet holes, and Bucky spent his time gently searching out and extracting each bullet until JARVIS confirmed that none were left.

While Phil worked on her engine, Tony fabricated various parts and engine components, and every once in a while, all three of them were dosed with the fire extinguisher in DUM-E’s possession.

Tony had sourced parts that he couldn’t fabricate; and ordered new white leather seat covers and interior pieces from his wide network of manufacturers, even going as far as calling in favors from the CEO of Tesla Motors and Ferrari; negotiating deals with junkyard owners looking for authentic Chevrolet parts.

Bucky enjoyed welding and he spent long hours working on covering the bullet holes in the body, smoothing out his work, and passing intense and rigorous inspecting by both Phil and Tony before handing it off to JARVIS to repaint in the original Hot Cherry Red.

Tony was showing Bucky the inner workings of the engine, a strange partnership of engine parts and high end technology, and Bucky was slowly learning that his skills in putting things together hadn’t all been destroyed by HYDRA.

“You know, you’re a pretty good mechanic,” Tony said, as they both leaned on Lola’s frame, looking down at her engine.

“Before the war, I used to work in the shipping yard as a third class mechanic,” Bucky said, smiling.

Tony peered up at Bucky, wiping the back of his hand on his nose and leaving behind a smear of engine grease. “You must’ve been pretty good in math to be a sniper. Steve said that you did all your math in your head. Even I know that’s not an easy thing to do.”

A loud snore interrupted their conversation and Bucky turned to see Phil slouched on a chair, a wrench nearly falling out of his hand.

Bucky chuckled and walked towards Phil, carefully taking the wrench and setting it on the work table. “Hey, Phil, come on, let’s get you on the couch. You’re going to get a bad crick in your neck if you sleep like this.”

“Don’t let Stark put a missile launcher in her, Barnes,” Phil mumbled as Bucky guided him to the workshop couch, helping Phil on the cushion, and then covering him with the soft fleece.

DUM-E rolled over to him and Bucky smiled, patting DUM-E on his supports. “Don’t wake him; and don’t spray him with the fire extinguisher either.”

The robot moved his arm up and down in acknowledgement and stood sentry for Phil as he slept. Bucky liked all the robots in Tony’s workshop. The other two seemed a little more reserved, a bit more shy, but DUM-E was fearless and tirelessly sociable.

He found Tony sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of Lola, and Bucky sat down beside him, letting out a deep sigh.

Tony raised his knee and propped his elbow against it, holding up the side of his head as he turned to gaze at Bucky.

Bucky leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on Tony’s mouth. “Thank you.”

Tony blinked, looking shocked but pleased. “Whatever I did, it was my pleasure. But just for the sake of argument, what are you thanking me for?”

Bucky waved his hand around the workshop. “For this. Giving me back this.”

“You figured out what to do when you grow up?”

He nodded, looking around the workshop. It felt comfortable to him; and he understood why Tony spent so much of his time in it. “How would Tony Stark feel about having a workshop assistant?”

“Well, Tony Stark’s already got three assistants,” Tony said, looking over at his three robots. “Hiring you wouldn’t be any worse than them.”

“Thanks,” he said, dryly.

“The hours are long and weird, the pay probably sucks, you might have to face the possibility that there could be explosions on any given day, and oh yeah, get sprayed with the fire extinguisher at least once a week, and I heard that the workshop boss is kind of an asshole.”

Bucky laughed, leaning his head back against Lola. “Sounds like perks to me.”

Tony laughed along with him.

“I also heard that the workshop boss is kind of a genius—“

“Actually, it’s genius, billionaire, philanthropist, and playboy. Primarily a playboy.”

Bucky grinned. “I’m more interested in the genius part, though.”

Tony turned and gave him a long, serious look. “Just the genius part or…”

“Pretty much the whole package, asshole and all. I can be kind of an asshole, too. You can ask Captain America, he’ll vouch for how much of an asshole I can be.”

“Sounds like kismet,” Tony said, meeting his gaze. “Well, with a reference like that, when can you start?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: As Bucky and Tony’s relationship progresses, Steve feels left out.
> 
> Pairing: Tony/Bucky – Friendship to flirting to something more.
> 
> Author’s Note: I may be ignoring CACW for this timeline. I think this story fits in after CAWS where Bucky is in the Smithsonian. Let’s say that Steve and Sam have brought Bucky in from the cold.

**Stark Tower**

_**Tony’s Workshop** _

 

Bucky stood in front of one of Tony’s holographic screens, looking at expanded view of Lola’s internal combustion.

 

“JARVIS, can you make a .002 calibration at this juncture here, please?” Bucky said, tapping his index finger on the crankshaft.

 

“Affirmative, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS intoned, recalibrating the crankshaft to Bucky’s new specification. “Congratulations, the mechanical energy output is now 4% more efficient.”

 

“That’s sexy,” Tony said, leaning his hip against the table, wiping his hands on a rag, giving Bucky a dark-eyed grin. “Nothing turns me on more than seeing someone competent at his work.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “That’s not what the tabloids say about you.”

 

Tony tossed the dirty rag at DUM-E and moved closer to Bucky. “Shows how much they don’t know me, Barnesy.”

 

“You flirting with me, Stark?”

 

“Maybe,” Tony murmured, slipping his fingers up along Bucky’s metal arm. “Want to take Lola out for a spin before you open her up again?”

 

“JARVIS, please save these changes to my server,” Bucky said, closing down his screens. He turned to face Tony, reaching up to run his metal thumb over Tony’s bottom lip. “We gonna make out at some lookout point? There used to be a good spot under the Bridge; heard they turned into a park now.”

 

Tony chuckled, biting gently down on Bucky’s thumb, the soft clink of teeth on metal making both of them smile. Bucky couldn’t actually feel Tony licking him, could only register the heat of Tony’s tongue against the mental, but the visual of seeing that little tongue flicking against his thumb was more than enough for Bucky to want more.

 

“I’ll take you anywhere you want if you want to make out.”

 

Steve cleared his throat.

 

Tony pulled away quickly. “Steve-a-roo, what brings you down to the workshop?”

 

Bucky grinned at Steve and stuck his thumb in his mouth, sliding his eyes to Tony as he sucked his thumb clean. Tony’s brown eyes widened and then narrowed at Bucky, which only caused Bucky to let out a soft laugh at Tony’s quickly changing expressions. It always surprised Bucky how little people truly understood Tony Stark; but then again, Tony was a master at keeping people at a distance.

 

“I…seem to be interrupting,” Steve said, looking from Bucky to Tony.

 

“Of course not, Cap—“

 

“Yep—“

 

Tony made a face at Bucky and Bucky just chuckled, hanging his thumbs from the belt loop of his jeans.

 

“Anyway, I was just going to take Barnes out for a test drive,” Tony said, hurrying through the workshop to the wall box with to get the car keys. “In the car, I mean. In Lola.”

 

Steve kept giving Bucky a strange look and Bucky raised his eyebrows at his best friend, trying to figure out what was Steve’s deal.

 

“Oh. If you’re busy, I’ll just…I’ll see you later, Buck.”

 

“Sure thing, Stevie,” he drawled back, completely puzzled by Steve.

 

“Okay, well, great! I’ll have Barnes back in a couple of hours,” Tony said, smiling manically.

 

Bucky frowned at the two of them.

 

Steve made a pained smile before leaving the workshop. Tony waited until Steve was out the door when he turned to Bucky, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes.

 

“Now, where were we?”

 

“You don’t suppose Steve’s not happy about the two of us seeing each other?”

 

Tony sighed and shrugged. “Growing pains; Cap’s just figuring out how to share you with me.”

 

Bucky curled his arms around himself. “Not worth the—“

 

“Stop,” Tony said, firmly. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re worth it, James. Steve would tear this world apart for you…and I’d be right by his side to help him do it. So you’re worth it to him, to us.” He gave Bucky a small smile. “Maybe you ought to spend some time with your best buddy. We can take Lola out another night.”

 

Bucky licked him lips and reached out with his hands to touch Tony, sliding his palms up his arms, tugging the other man closer to hold him. “Nah, we already have a date. Stevie knows that I’d never punk out after I already made a promise.” He met Tony’s pleased gaze. “Wanna go see about a bridge?”

 

***

 

**Brooklyn Bridge Park**

 

“We’re gonna get arrested.”

 

He had parked Lola on the corner of Old Fulton and Furman, the bridge sprawling across the East River to the right of them. The views of the bridge and Manhattan lit up were breathtakingly gorgeous, but Bucky was breathless for a host of other reasons. Tony leaned over the bucket seats, nearly sitting in Bucky’s lap as they kissed and kissed and kissed, like horny teenage boys furtively making out before they got caught with their pants down.

 

“Making out with you is my new favorite thing,” Tony murmured, making Bucky smile into their next kiss.

 

Tony kissed in a variety of pleasurable ways; from soft and chaste kisses to licking into Bucky’s mouth to wet and dirty to drool, dripping down Bucky’s chin. He welcomed them all, curling his hands around Tony’s back, stroking the muscles under the threadbare cotton tee-shirt.

 

“Want to go to second base?”

 

Bucky barked out a laugh, wiping his hand down his chin, looking at Tony. “What counts as second base these days?”

 

“Blowjob.”

 

Bucky half-heartedly protested as Tony reached for Bucky’s belt buckle, undoing it with a wide smile on his handsome face, sloe-eyed and beautiful and completely focused on Bucky.

 

“We don’t have any coverage here.”

 

“That’s half the fun,” Tony murmured, opening Bucky’s jeans and curling a warm and calloused hand around Bucky’s semi-hard cock. “Keep an eye out.”

 

And Tony ducked down, his mouth wet and gentle around the head, tongue working in a slow, teasing circle as Bucky felt his cock harden in Tony’s mouth.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, his right hand sliding into Tony’s hair, rubbing his scalp gently as Tony sucked and licked and teased him.

 

It had been…a long time since Bucky felt this kind of pleasure. In the jagged parts of his memory, he remembered only flashes of moments of another time, pretty girls with red lips and warm mouths, and shared laughter full of affection.

 

But that was nothing compared to how Tony could take him apart and then put him back together. Bucky closed his eyes and bit back a groan, his metal hand hanging outside the driver side, whirring as he closed his hand into a tight fist.

 

“Yes, please,” Bucky said, moaning thickly. “Please, Tony, keep going, keep going, please, baby--“

 

Tony groaned around his mouthful, the vibrations kicking the pleasure into high gear as Bucky tried not to thrust his cock deeper into Tony’s mouth. He was certainly talented, generous with giving Bucky pleasure, and Bucky leaned his head back against the seat back, panting quickly, his right hand sliding down Tony’s back to clutch at the tee-shirt, fisting the fabric in his hand.

 

“Close, so close, please  _ohhhh_  Tony,” Bucky drawled out at Tony’s hand joined his mouth, wrapped around Bucky’s cock in a tight grip, spit easing the friction as Tony bobbed quickly, mouth tight around the head as he sucked so hard and so good, and Bucky came with a whimper.

 

He shivered when Tony licked him clean, soft tongue gliding around the sensitive tip, as Bucky sank against the leather of his seat, hand releasing his grip on Tony’s shirt to rub soothing circles over Tony’s back. The cool air of the pre-dawn morning against his cock brought him out of his pleasure daze and he lifted his head to look at Tony, face flushed and lips plump. He pulled Tony against him and kissed his mouth, careful not to bite too hard, chasing the taste of his come against Tony’s tongue.

 

“Think you can drive us back?” Tony said, smiling at him.

 

“Yes,” Bucky said, meeting his eyes. “I wanna try second base in a bed this time.”

 

Tony choked on his laugh, falling back to his passenger seat, sprawled out against the leather, his hand curling over his groin. Bucky leaned over him and kissed him again, metal hand reaching between them to cup Tony’s hardness in his palm.

 

“Fuck, yes,” Tony mumbled against Bucky’s mouth, arching into Bucky’s touch.

 

***

 

**Stark Tower**

 

Bucky didn’t call it the walk of shame, leaving Tony’s bedroom and making his way to his floor.

 

They hadn’t gotten much sleep but enjoyed a few hours rolling around in Tony’s big bed, laughing and touching each other, and Bucky wondered aloud if Phil would allow him to overhaul Lola’s entire engine.

 

“If this is your pillow talk, it’s turning me on,” Tony said, slipping his fingers down Bucky’s inner thigh.

 

“Sir, I must warn you that you have a Board meeting this morning at 9 AM. Miss Potts has already alerted me to remind you,” JARVIS said, politely.

 

Tony rolled his eyes and groaned, falling back on the bed. “Christ.”

 

Bucky kissed him and then got out of bed, stretching luxuriously while looking down at Tony, sprawled on dark gray sheets looking like temptation. Tony’s eyes moved over Bucky’s naked body and he let out a long exhale.

 

“I should be done by lunch time,” Tony said, grinning up at him. “Want to make out then?”

 

“Sure,” he said, chuckling. He found his jeans and his shirt on the floor by the bed and slipped into his clothes with an efficient use of energy. “I’ll be in the workshop.”

 

He leaned down over Tony with his hands braced against the mattress, and kissed him again.

 

“It’s a date,” Tony said, winking at him.

 

“Come on, up and at ‘em,” Bucky said, giving Tony’s flank an affectionate tap with his metal hand. “Don’t keep Miss Potts waiting.”

 

“You keep that up and I’m not going to let you leave my bed.”

 

Bucky grinned, shy but pleased, and pressed a chaste kiss against Tony’s mouth. “See you later.”

 

He stepped off the elevator on the floor that he shared with Steve and walked into the living room.

 

“Morning, Buck,” Steve called, looking over at him from the kitchen counter.

 

“Hey, morning, Stevie,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “Got a cup of coffee for me?”

 

“Bagels, too, if you want them,” he said, getting up from the stool to fix Bucky a large mug of coffee.

 

Bucky reached for the bag of bagels and unrolled the top, almost tucking his face into the bag and inhaling deeply, the aroma of the fresh and still warm bagels making him drool a little in his mouth. Steve slid a clean plate across the counter and then set down the mug in front of Bucky.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Steve said, sitting across from him and smiling a little. “Did you and Tony have a nice time?”

 

Bucky took a big sip of coffee and flicked his eyes at Steve over the rim, a smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, Stevie, we had a good time.”

 

Steve raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that you and Tony had gotten that close.”

 

He shrugged, breaking open a bagel and reaching for Steve’s knife and the cream cheese. He spread a generous amount on the bagel and looked at his best friend.

 

“It’s not a secret that I like him,” he said, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

 

“And I’m glad; I’m happy for you both, Bucky, don’t misunderstand,” he said, grinning slightly. “It’s just that…I haven’t seen you around and…you know what, it’s fine. I’m just being a stupid punk.”

 

“Hey,” Bucky said, swallowing quickly and reaching out with his right hand to curl around Steve’s wrist. “You’re my best pal; and, yeah, if I’ve been spending a lot of time with Tony, it’s because…it’s new for us and I want to spend time with him. But you’re my best pal and I should spend time with you, too.”

 

“I’d like that,” he said, smiling widely at Bucky now. “Tony’s my friend, too; I miss spending time with both of you.”

 

Bucky chuckled, a little from relief and a lot from happiness, and he nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Yeah, Stevie, I’d like that a lot, too.”

 

“Good,” Steve said, nodding. “So what did you two get up to last night? Did you have a nice drive around the city?”

 

Bucky blushed, lips curled into a smile, and watched as Steve took in his expression and rolled his eyes.

 

“Keep whatever you’re thinking to yourself. I don’t need to know the details.”

 

They looked at each other for a long moment and then broke out into laughter. Bucky leaned his elbow on the counter and covered his mouth with his hand, laughing loudly. Steve’s gorgeous face broke out into a stupid looking smile, eyes tearing up from the force of his laughter.

 

 

 


End file.
